Lynley Mysteries: Barbara's language course
by Jumaolster
Summary: K. Barbara's language course has some unforseen consequenses.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Barbara's language course

Rating: PG

Setting: After Helen's death. Lynley's not back to work just yet.

Disclaimer: Not mine! All mistakes are mine.

Barbara was so disappointed she would just have cried, if she hadn't been facing Sir Hillier. She could tell he hadn't done it on purpose this time, because he seemed generally embarrassed, but she was disappointed nevertheless.

The Met had advertised some language courses, in the Commissioners strive to "educate the police force" and Barbara had wanted to learned some Spanish. She'd been eyeing some brochures "Holidays for singles" and such, and had discovered that the market apparently was wide open for singles at the moment. She'd been kind of amused at first, feeling like she was the only single on the planet, but she'd soon discovered that a lot of people longed for someone to go on holiday with.

She'd gone to one of the agencies advertised in the catalogue arriving in the mail one day, and since then, she'd received calls nearly every day. She could chose from any formula she wanted, shared double, shared connecting rooms with 1 bathroom, single room, single with shared bathroom, ecc ecc in eternity, whatever fit you wallet and style.

Barbara had always wanted to see Spain. What Barbara had been planning, had been a vacation in Spain, a Grand Tour, albeit little one, seeing Barcelona, Madrid...

She'd wanted to learn some words in Spanish for it, and had applied for one of the language courses, Spanish 0, and had hoped she'd be able to start. She'd even bought some cassettes second hand on the net to get started.

Instead, Hillier had forgotten all about it. The most senior officer had to sign off on the deal, and that was him, and he'd forgotten.

"Sergeant, I must admit I forgot completely about you language course." He said, shuffling the papers around in front of him.

Truth be told, since Lynley had been on leave after his wife's unfortunate death, he'd come to appreciate his quirky sergeant more. She was a most singular individual for sure, but he'd come to appreciate her intelligence and her wit, and had learned how to keep her temper checked.

Most of the Inspectors under him would have told him he was too harsh with her, if they had dared to tell him and he'd been interested in asking, that his " though love" approach to controlling Havers was going too far, but Hillier was not a man to ask.

But today, he knew he was on the wrong side of the fence. He'd tried to make it up to her, but her dismay at his suggestions made him realise that he'd probably been better off not doing anything­:

"Sergeant, I must admit I submitted your papers a tad too late for the Spanish course, however, I've secured a place for you in the modern Arab language course!"

That had obviously not been to her liking. AH, well, she'd get used to it! And it was offered on Met time as well! Why the hell was Havers looking so sad? Damn the woman!

"You're dismissed! Hillier barked, "The course stars Monday at 3 p.m., and make sure not to disappoint me!"

She just nodded at him and left. That's when he knew he'd messed up badly... No protests? Not like Havers? She had become the one who'd saved him from some very politically correct faux pas during the last couple of months. He'd just repeated her honest, colourful comments to the press in a more "polished" manner, and it had even earned him some accolades in the Daily Mail.

He sighed. As soon as possible, he'd give her some positive remarks in her file, hitherto filled with negative remarks and worse from him...


	2. Chapter 2

Barbara arrived home completely dejected. She had really coveted that Spanish course; instead, she was saddled with modern Arabic. Freaking great! Fantastic!

Ble.

Where to go on a singles holiday now? Saudi Arabia? That would be a hoot... She steamed passed her normal parking space, which obviously was occupied, and to her great surprise and joy, found one just by her house.

She parked her car and slid out, stomping off towards her tiny apartment-bungalow, when Azhar, her neighbour, suddenly put his head out the door.

"Barbara? I've just made a casserole. Since you're taking care of Hadiyyah tomorrow, I was thinking, you should at least eat with us, and then take the leftovers home so you don't have to cook!

He thought himself very clever. He'd been cooking for her ever since that night he'd found out about Helen's death, and he knew she loved whatever he put on the table. He thought it only fair, she helped him a lot with Hadi, and besides, he enjoyed her company.

And as always, at the thought of his delicious food, she folded and nodded at him:

"Just let me take a shower first, all right, and then I'll be over?"

He nodded and smiled. He couldn't wait for her to tell him why she was so angry tonight. Her stories from the Met were entertaining, to say the least, at least, when you didn't have to deal with it on a daily basis. A nice change from his faceless germs...

Barbara headed home for a shower and a change of clothes. She also called Lynley, something that had become practically a daily occurrence lately. At first, he'd been very distant and in pain, but slowly he'd started to recover. She'd gone to Helen's and Jasper's funeral, just to be there for him. It had been a very private funeral, just his and Helen's immediate family, Barbara, and the St. James's.

It had pained her to the bone, to see him so broken. But from experience she knew that he'd need time to heal, and to go through all the stages of mourning. At least he was lucky enough to have his family around him. And their daily conversations slowly became conversations again, him asking her about London and Barbara asking him for advice on different things.

For both of them it had become a welcome routine.

Some hours later, Azhar had treated her to a delicious dinner and he'd even served some Egyptian wine. And she'd put Hadyyiah to bed... Softly she said, not to provoke him:

"You need to discuss Angela with her, Azhar, she keeps asking me about her mother, and I don't know what to answer. A boy at school told her the other day her mother wouldn't be back, and she was close to punching him. Is that what you want as a wake up call?"

To her great surprise, he just nodded:

"I know. She's been asking more and more lately. She just doesn't buy the "Holiday" thing anymore. I just feel like crying, you see, every time I want to talk about Angela leaving us... I don't want to cry in front of Hadiyyah, I'm her father..."

Barbara nodded. She didn't want to cry in front of someone either. Maybe she was just wrong? Suddenly, the problems of the day just washed over her, and her eyes teared up.

"I don't mean to be bawling, Azhar, really. I just had a bad day, that's all..."

He poured her another glass of his Egyptian wine, and said:

"Please tell me? Maybe I can help?"

She sniffled a bit in response.

"Well I put in for this Spanish language course, right, because I wanted to on a holiday and there were all there singles offers and no questions asked, right, and then the Vicecommish forgot and I ended up with an Arabic course of all things... like where the bloody hell do I go on a holiday were they speak Arabic? Right? I'm not really the hijab type, here..."

Azhar was laughing... leave it Barbara to joke about hijabs...

"Well, for one, I speak Arabic. I learned it as a boy in school! There are many different dialects, but I should be able to help you with your homework at least, and I could give you some conversation lessons..."

Barbara had seldom seen Azhar so enthusiastic, and before she knew it, she was just nodding consent.

And Barbara spent her holiday learning Arabic. Being Barbara, she'd decided that she should make the best of it, and had arranged for aikido intensive lessons in the mornings with a private tutor, and an another intensive course in Arabic for the afternoons, like a full immersion holiday. She thought she'd spent her money well, and in the end she'd spent less than if she'd gone away. The rest of her time she spent exploring London, a thing that strangely satisfied her sightseeing needs.

She also spent a weekend with Lynley and his mother. Lady Dorothy had called her several times already to come up, but Barbara had waited until she felt Lynley was ready for a visit. He wanted to sell his London townhouse, but could not bear to pack all of Helen's things. Barbara promised to help, and she agreed with Lady Dorothy to start working on showing the house and so on. Lynley had seemed to flourish during her visit, she'd taken him on a long walk around his estate and he'd even smiled at some of her jokes. All in all, it had been a good weekend, and she'd promised to come up again on her next weekend off.

Meanwhile, her teacher at the Met was impressed with her, and always praised her oral skills which really had developed at a surprising speed (Barbara's homework and writing skills were another matter altogether...) and Barbara felt like she was at least doing something right. The other police officers in the Arabic course were pure career people, tackling the course only for its face value, and not really interested in speaking the language. They all scored high on written tests, but Barbara was the only one who could understand and engage in a simple conversation after 8 weeks of lessons.

Azhar was proud of her as well, which left her more thrilled that she felt comfy with, and Hillier obviously hadn't said a word on her progress. AH well. Not like she'd asked for praise or anything...

And then one day, the unbelievable happened!


	3. Chapter 3

Barbara was sitting in the downstairs lobby in the Met building, waiting for her language course to start. She was particularly proud of what she had prepared. A little speech was asked for today, in past tense. She'd prepared a speech on how she'd gone to the supermarket with Hadi, and what they had bought, and how they had carried it home, and what Azhar had cooked. She was just working on the finishing touches, when suddenly she became aware of the two men in front of her.

She continued to stare down on her papers. Azhar had taught her it was impolite to stare. However, he hadn't mentioned eavesdropping, right? They were speaking Arabic, thankfully a clear and easy dialect, and she could understand it! She could virtually feel her ears growing into twice their size.

"I think we should cooperate with the police here, Momum...?" The younger man pleaded.

The older man with the moustache was not convinced at all:

"NO! I'm telling you, we should just answer their questions truthfully, and not mention anything else...!"

"But Momum? How would they know how to ask?"

"We are abiding to the law! We're here, aren't we? How would you expect there people to protect us? They think we're all bad people!"

Barbara nearly fell out of her chair, trying to understand everything they said.

She wondered what case they were here for. Not one of hers. She'd just solved a case with a missing woman, solving 2 cold cases in the process. All Hillier had said had been:

"Well I'm happy to see at least you're starting to get your paperwork right, Sergeant!" before gruffly dismissing her. She'd been truly beat down about that, she'd hoped for at least a little bit of praise. Or if not praise, at least a little of something?

He'd HAD given her three days off, but it would be nice to hear something nice every now and then. To top it off, apparently the cold case squad had been miffed she hadn't cut them in.

Chief Super Intendent Bolton had practically sneered at her at hearing about her solving not one, but two cases for them.

And since Hillier was a deeply political animal, and the Chief Super was a very important person on the political scale of things, he'd therefore opted for three days off (which she deserved anyway) and no praise. He'd hoped to appease the Chief Super with this move, but deep down, the Chief Super was a pretty ok bloke, who had felt a bit guilty afterwards. After all, Havers had been pretty brilliant to solve the cases his squad had been stumped with. Oh well. He'd make it up to her some other time.

Meanwhile, Barbara wondered, cut them in on what? On the accolade on the three copies, printed and bound correctly, one of which on blue paper for the Commish?

On the extra days off? WHAT? Barbara seriously didn't know. She was probably the last person on the politically savvy people in the Met. She'd been angry at first. Then she'd told Lynley all about it in their evening call, and he'd appeased her. He'd told her Bolton was a good man, and that she'd probably ruffled his feathers a bit, waltzing in and just solving his cases, and by the end of their conversation she'd decided just to talk to the cold cases squad's Chief Super about anything she would discover in the future. She could even hear Lynley smiling over the phone. Barbara would make a fine DI one day, he was sure of it.

Barbara had been learning to reign in her temper lately. Not having Lynley around to protect her had forced her to realise that if she wanted to stay at the Met she needed to work with other people.

The Chief Super. She'd heard his Sergeant in the coffee break room the other day. She'd been going on and on about their difficulties with that cold case involving that poor woman found dead in an alley. Her head had been bashed in. She'd thought to have been Muslim, since she was wearing a "dupatta" suite with a complete veil. Barbara had been asking Azhar about the Muslim veil, and had found that there were as many variations as to a western skirt. From mini to maxi so to say.

Now she saw a way to make amends with the cold squad. She raised and ran off to find the interrogation room where the two men would be led. Well there, she found the CC squad's Chief Super ready to walk into the interrogation room, and the two men she'd seen were already waiting inside. To her horror, even Hillier was there.

"Sir, please? Just a minute?" She was a bit breathless. Not by the run, all her aikido training had left her exceptionally fit, but by the emotion.

The older men turned around and stared at her, both disdainful, for different reasons.

"What is it, Havers?" Hillier sounded less than pleased.

Barbara felt her confidence plummet. Then she scraped it all up and put her pride in her pocket. She was there to help them, after all...

"Erm, Sir, see, you know the language course you sent me on?"

Hillier's face clouded. "What about it Havers?" he said impatiently. "Chief Super Intendent Bolton has a couple of witnesses to question. This is neither the time nor the place..."

Before he could go off on a tirade, Barbara decided to risk her neck and interrupted:

"Well, it's like, Sir, paid off, because those two blokes were in the lobby earlier, and I heard them talking..."

She suddenly felt everyone's' eyes on her and blushed. She hated it when people stared at her. Oh why couldn't Lynley be back at work already? Her self-esteem crumbled and her confidence hit rock bottom. She hated it when people stared at her. Really she did.

The Chief Super must have felt that she was seriously wearing off course here. He thought of his own Sergeant, who could easily be thrown off course by a bit of bullying, and felt a bit guilty about the way he'd treated Havers in past and in present, and suddenly said, in a friendly and reassuring manner:

"Well go on then Sergeant. There's no need to be shy here? Just tell me what you heard, and I'm sure it will be of great help!"

There. Now how was that for encouragement? He felt pleased with himself, for approximately 3 seconds before he saw her hackles go up.


	4. Chapter 4

Barbara was pretty angry by now. She was trying to HELP for crying out loud, and they were treating her like a naughty 5 year old. She gave him the death glare she was famous for and went on:

"Well I heard them talking Sir, and it seems they have information about the woman found dead in the alley some time ago. The younger man was wanting to cooperate. The older one with the moustache's called Momum, and he just wants to answer all your questions truthfully and leave it to you to ask the right ones. They both obviously knew the woman, and it seemed to care about her, but Momum is a bit, shall we say, careful."

She'd also taken note of Momum's "tell", the little gestures that she always picked up on, and Lynley seemed to miss completely, that would give away a witness' state of mind and when he or she was lying.

Bolton saw Havers hesitating. He knew he hadn't given her any praise or credit for solving the two cases his squad hadn't solved, and he also knew somehow he'd blown it pretty badly just now. His own Sergeant was a young inexperienced lass of 23, while Havers must be around 30 – 35 and an experienced copper. He should probably treat her more like an equal. Bolton figured the only thing that had been keeping her from an DI grade was her temper, and that rather unfortunate demotion with loss of pay a year or so ago.

He himself hadn't agreed with the verdict, and he knew by fact that a lot of "Higher ups" had not either. But Hillier had wanted to fire her, at the very least, and Lynley had saved her career, in the end. She'd been furious at the time, of course, and deeply wounded by her demotion, and he knew it had done nothing to further her confidence in her superiors' abilities.

Bolton thought is was a pity, because Hillier was not a bad cop per se. He was just a political cop, with a dislike for Havers.

As it were, Hillier was observing Havers as well. After Lynley's hasty exit, he'd been forced to deal with the woman on a daily basis, and had, to his immense surprise, come to value her more. He'd even pulled out that damned case file again, and with Havers in a somewhat new light, the case before him seemed less of an easy one. The persistent rumours about Emily Barlow's behaviour after her near complete absolvation in the matter, had given him a lot to consider.

Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. He'd wanted to get her that damned Spanish course, but now it seemed the Arabic course had been the right choice after all. He was already plotting means to turn that into an advantage in future press conferences.

The thought of shining in a press conference made him smile at Havers, who was pretty stunned. Hillier? Smiling at her? What the bloody hell was going on now?

Bolton said:

"Havers, let's put our differences aside for a moment. I think there is something else you'd like to tell me? You can tell me, you know. I realise I was a bit of a horses ass last time you solved case for me, but trust me, this time, I'll just tell you Commish here, how great your contribution has been." And as he grinned at her, she knew it was a genuine smile this time, and being the forgiving soul she was, she immediately smiled back.

And to Hillier's surprise, prickly, difficult Barbara beamed at Bolton and said:

"His "tell", Sir? You know those little things that like indicate that the witness is nervous, or would like to say more, or is lying, or...?" Barbara was rambling, and Bolton interrupted:

"Yes, Sergeant, all right, I see your point. So what is it then?"

"He holds his thumbs, Sir, like this!" And she showed him her closed fist with her folded thumb hidden inside, and grinned at Bolton triumphantly.

As on cue, they all moved to the see through glass window. On the other side from the interrogation room, it seemed to be a looking glass, but of course, by now, most people had seen enough cop shows on the telly to know that is was, in fact, a see through.

And sure enough. They could see the two men silently discussing with each other, with Momum hiding his thumbs several times.

Bolton made a silent decision. It would only be right. He turned to Barbara and said:

"Sergeant! You're with me!" and strode towards the door.

Barbara was stunned for all of 1 second, and then she hastily scuttled after him, thanking all Gods and Higher Powers that be for having had the good sense to go to the loo before heading down here.

Together, they entered the interrogation room. As Barbara had anticipated, they made no sign of recognizing her at all. Might come in handy, in case they started to confer with each other in their "secret language".

Sure enough, as many persons in a foreign country, they were sure of not being understood.

Oh, how wrong they were. Barbara was just hoping they'd keep their conversation at a basic level; otherwise she'd be lost...

Bolton indicated the chair to the left for Barbara and took the one to the right himself.

"Right!" Bolton decided to plough right in, "Mr Sadiq, is it? Mr Momum Sadiq? I've been led to believe you have some vital information about the case of our nameless woman with her head bashed in? Brains on the pavement and all that? Left to die? I believe the autopsy established it took her 10 agonizing minutes to die?"

Momum had paled during Bolton's tirade. His younger companion had gone green, definitely. Barbara felt sorry for him. One second before he started throwing up, she quickly rose, grabbed the dust bin in the corner of the interrogation room, and held it out to him. Not a nanosecond too late, he started retching at once. Once he'd finished, Barbara gave him a paper handkerchief from her handbag (the super soft ones with balm, Hadiyyah's favourites), and then tentatively said:

"Sir, maybe I should show Mr... Mr? This bloke where he can wash up? Yah?" She looked at him for approval. He nodded approval, and Barbara trotted off with the younger man, leaving The Chief Super to interrogate Mr Sadiq.

Once they'd arrived at the public restroom, Ahmad ( he'd told her his name on the way down) washed his face thoroughly with soap and water, and then washed his mouth out a couple of times. Barbara even gave him one of her mints to feel better. After all, he wasn't a suspect or anything, more like a witness.

When he had finished, he leaned against the wall for a second.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Barbara asked hesitantly. Maybe it would be easier to open up to her in private, than with a rather scary looking and imposing Bolton staring down his neck.

"The woman? She lived in our house. We, that are Momum and I and two other blokes, live in the council flats in Becontree. She came over to marry her husband, who lives under us. I seriously don't know what happened to her, but her husband is a bloke with a nasty temper. She had a hard time adjusting, and wanted to go back home to be close to her mum and all, and one day Ben said he'd repudiated her and sent her home. She just vanished from one second to the other. But then yesterday we heard about the woman with her head bashed in and wanted to know if it was her, and then we went to look in the internet and it's her. Her name was Naila, and she loved her flowers and she loved baking and cooking and stuff."

Ahmad looked at Barbara. He looked very young and vulnerable in that moment, standing in a Met loo with a wet paper now pressed against his forehead; she'd prepared it for him.

"Ok, then, let's go and I'll tell the Chief Super what you've said. I hope we can get this Ben to confess, because pinning it on him with pure evidence is going to be difficult. You don't happen to know his real name? Cause I kind of doubt it says Ben on his birth certificate..."

"Benham Dara, that's his name."

Barbara smiled at him. He'd been of great help. The police relied on the public to come to them with information and tip offs, and to call the hotlines and to give evidence. Without people like Ahmad who came forward and talked to them, there would be no evidence, no trials and so on.

She nodded at him:

"Let's go. I'll tell the Gov you've been a great help!"

Ahmad smiled back. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and it was as if he could breath easier again.


	5. Chapter 5

Barbara and Ahmad arrived back at the interrogation room, and the young man repeated everything, with more detail, to Bolton. Bolton was impressed. Apparently DS Havers had some magic key to get these blokes talking, because all of a sudden, Momum decided he wanted to talk as well.

At the end of the interview, they knew a lot more about Mr. Dara, maybe even enough to take him in for questioning.

After nearly two hours of questioning, the two men went home, with strict instructions not to discuss anything with anyone.

Bolton turned to Barbara:

"Well done, Sergeant! I take it you'll want to accompany me when we go and talk to the suspect? All we need to do is match the hair and the skin flakes we found under the victims nails, and a conviction is close to certain!"

Barbara nodded. Oh, yes, that was exactly what she wanted.

Before heading out, she went to get her jacket. Judith had insisted on giving it to her, it had been a "wrong buy" as she'd explained one day they when they were slowly packing Lynley's house up together. Barbara had had a fleeting feeling that Judith had bought the jacket for her, after all, she was a lot smaller in size than Judith, but the jacket was really nice, and in the end, she'd accepted the gift. It was dark grey in colour, a soft velvety fabric, and every so slightly figure hugging. With it, she was wearing her standard black pants, white polo t-shirt and black shoes. She looked really nice, she thought……

Bolton waited for her at his car, and with some uniformed police they headed off to make their arrest. She smiled to herself. Wait until she told Lynley! For sure he'd be proud.

They arrived at the suspect's apartment, and Bolton banged in the door:

"Police, open the door!"

Barbara was standing behind him, to the right of the door, when it slowly opened and Mr. Dara looked out:

"What can I do for you, Sir?" He had a pleasant and polite voice.

"Please step outside, Mr. Dara, we have some questions regarding your wife?" Bolton sounded very menacing by now. He hated wife beaters, and this was one of the worst cases he'd seen in a long time.

Then, everything happened in a matter of seconds.

Dara, suddenly panicking, pushed the door wide open, and launching forward, he grabbed Barbara, holding a knife to her throat – where did the knife come from, Barbara thought? She felt herself going cold with fear.

"Easy now, Mr. Dara. Put the knife down. We just want to talk to you. PUT the knife down!" Bolton had not anticipated this. He could just kick himself. Barbara was as pale as paper, and he could see she was shaking.

"Easy, Sergeant, easy….."

But Barbara hadn't done all that aikido for nothing. She suddenly let herself go limp in Dara's arms, leaning towards him. In the half second he did not know what was going on, she grabbed his arm, and pulled away and down, simultaneously bowing so that he had to bow as well.

She then half turned, twisting his arm away, and making him drop the knife.

And with that, he had all the coppers over him. Bolton was the one who kept a cool head, and stopped some very irrational actions from all present, but it took all his years in training to do so.

Barbara meanwhile, was bleeding from the throat where Dara'd held the knife; she was shaking from shock, and would let no one touch her. She sat down against building wall, and just rolled up into a ball, trying to calm herself down.

Bolton decided to take action.

"Barbara?" Using her Christian name, he tried to establish a connection between them. She searched her pocket to find her mobile phone, and said:

"Azhar. And Lynley?"

Bolton nodded. He took her phone searching for the names she'd given and within seconds had Azhar on the line. After explaining what had happened, he handed to phone to Barbara, and while he called an ambulance, Azhar calmed her down over the phone. He was so scared himself that HE would have needed someone to calm HIM down, but for the sake of Barbara, he shook himself into action. He slowly and clearly started to recite the poem they had studied together the day before, and soon he heard her breathing become less ragged, and he could hear he had her attention.

In the meantime, Bolton had covered her with his jacket to keep her warm and to try to avoid Barbara going into shock altogether. As far as he could see, she wasn't hurt badly; she'd just been very scared. And very brave, he thought. He'd checked her personnel file and knew she'd been both shot and taken hostage. In a country were most coppers never even see a gun, that was a pretty impressive track record.

Now she'd calmed down enough to let him hold her against him, and she leaned her head against his shoulder and started crying. She was totally getting his shirt bloody (so much blood, were did it all come from?) but he didn't care.

As soon as she'd been bundled into the ambulance, which gratefully arrived within minutes, Bolton called Lynley as well. Lynley promised to come to London right away, but it would take some hours drive.

As Barbara arrived at the hospital, she found Azhar already there, waiting for her.


	6. Chapter 6

They wheeled her out of the ambulance and into the ER, Azhar had been waiting for her outside and now held on to her hand. He told her that Lynley had called and was on his way, and that she was very brave. Barbara felt dizzy and out of focus. She'd stopped crying during the ambulance ride but was feeling very fragile.

The cut wasn't very deep, the ambulance personnel had told her, and she'd be as good as new in no time.

When the ER nurse slowly sat her up after the initial check up, Barbara saw her reflection in the glass window in the door, and to her dismay, she'd ruined the jacket and her polo shirt.

Somehow that did it, and she just started crying again. The nurse tried to calm her down ( Azhar hadn't been allowed in with her) and finally gave her something to calm her down, when nothing else helped. Within half a minute, Barbara was lying still on the table, and the nurse took her clothes off.

"It's so cold?" Barbara didn't quite understand where she was and what had happened.

"Where's Azhar and where's Lynley?" she mumbled, but no one seemed to understand her.

A doctor came and saw to her cut with the nurse, then deciding Barbara should stay the night for observation, just in case.

When they had her changed into a hospital gown and had patched up the cut, Azhar was let in. By now, nearly and hour had passed in all, and Azhar said:

"Barbara? Lynley called. He'll be here soon. When he comes, I'll go home, all right? To see to Hadi? I know you hate this stupid gown thing. I've bought you some pj bottoms and a toothbrush for tonight in the hospital shop. As soon as the nurse is freed up again, she'll help you, all right? I told her you're cold."

All the attention made Barbara warm and comfortable, and soon she fell asleep. The calming agent had been strong, and she didn't even wake up when Lynley arrived and Azhar went home.

Lynley was getting very tired of hanging out in hospitals. When Bolton had called, he'd gone cold with fear. What if Barbara died as well? He'd thrown himself into his car and had driven as fast as he possibly could. When Azhar called to tell him that everything would be all right, he'd felt so relieved he'd had to stop the car and take deep breaths for five minutes to steady his nerves.

He'd decided with Azhar that he'd stay over night, and then Azhar would come as soon as he'd taken Hadi to school. No need to worry the little girl.

Lynley held Barbara's hand in his, squeezing it hard. Her eyes fluttered open just for a second, and she mumbled something, but he couldn't understand what.

"I want to go home, Sir, take me home?" she repeated.

He just smiled at her and nodded:

"Just shut your eyes while I finish reading the newspaper, and then I'll take you home!"

It worked like a charm. Within two seconds, she was asleep again.

He suddenly heard a soft knock on the door, and saw Bolton in the door opening. Lynley nodded.

He got up to shake Bolton's hand, as a sign that he understood that this had been one of those unforeseeable accidents, and no one's fault.

Bolton said, in a very low voice:

"Nasty case. We've interrogated the suspect, and he's confessed. Apparently he's tried to avoid getting married most of his adult life. He's not marriageable, as he puts it. His mother and father put an immense amount of pressure on him until he agreed. The murder victim was his second cousin, they've know each other all her life, and he had this wild hope it would somehow work. Which it didn't, obviously. His wife got increasingly homesick and frustrated, and their fights became more and more intense. When she discovered a message on his mobile phone from another man they both know from the mosque, she wanted to go to the Imam for counselling. He panicked, and hit her so hard she fell and bashed her head on a table. He didn't know what to do, and after she died, he hid her body in the trunk of his car and dumped it in the alley. He says he went back twice to cover her body ….. Dara also told me he'd had no intention of hurting Barbara, he was hoping someone would shoot him. Suicide by cop so to say. He says his family will see him as dishonour. We've put him on a 24 hour suicide watch. I doubt it will even go to court. He's signed a full confession, with a huge apology to DS Havers……"

Lynley shook his head. So much sorrow and sadness.

"Thank you. When Barbara wakes up, I'll tell her. I'm glad you solved the case…… "

"Oh, and Tommy? Hillier send his best wishes to Barbara."

Well. It would probably snow in July this year, Lynley thought, as the watched Bolton silently leave the room.

He texted both Judith and his mother, both of whom were very relieved everything was all right. As all right as it could be, anyhow. Judith promised to get some clothes for Barbara, for the ruined jacket, and Lady Dorothy was already plotting how to get Barbara to come and spend some days with her to recover.

Lynley wrinkled his forehead, thinking intensely. He then dialled a number on his mobile….


	7. Chapter 7

"Hillier!" a voice barked on the other end of the phone.

"Sir, its Lynley here. I've been doing some thinking, and when Barbara is ready to come back to work, I'd like to start working again, as well. If that is possible, Sir."

"Well, you'd have to undergo a psych eval, and probably start seeing the Met psychologist for a couple of times, but I can set it up for you. I'm glad you made this decision. As soon as Havers is back on her legs, I'll send her to the Met Career Office for some consultation. I think she might be ready to take the Inspector's board, and with you Acting Super Intendent, that won't be a problem. I've already put in a request for Havers to receive a financial bonus at the end of the year. Now today get on the phone with the Psych Office and then get back to me!"

With that, Hillier hung up. Lynley was stunned. In the time he'd been gone, Barbara must've done a couple of things very right for Hillier to suddenly make a u-turn in her regards.

Actually, Hillier wasn't even half as dumb as most of the officers under him thought. He hadn't liked Havers, and she hadn't liked him. She'd irritated the daylights out of him with her jeans and polo shirts….. But lately she'd been scrubbing up a bit, wearing simple black pants and a blouse. Plus with the long red hair she was quite a sight.

Hillier wouldn't have been caught dead thinking about his Sergeants appearance and body, but then it was inevitable for people working together not noticing each other.

With Webberly gone, and no Lynley to hope for, Hillier had found himself in the peculiar situation of having to deal with the "lower staff" by himself. He'd soon realised he was completely out of touch with everyone. Hillier had considered himself a just and efficient boss, maybe not loved, but respected. To his horror, he'd soon discovered that most people just wanted to avoid him altogether, and that his subordinates considered him a puppet in the hands of the Commissioner.

The Inspectors under him where all career savvy, and told him what they thought he wanted to hear. This in this situation helped him not at all. Since Barbara was practically an acting Inspector, she'd been present at most meetings lately.

To Hillier's chagrin, he soon began to listen very carefully to her opinions. Outspoken to a fault, and with less than gracious social skills, Havers had been the one to inform him about the goings on……. She didn't know it of course. And he hadn't acknowledged her.

When Bolton had come to see him today, both men had been afflicted with what is commonly known as a guilty conscience. Bolton had sung Havers' praise, and Hillier had found to occasion to be perfect to make a couple of things right without it looking like he was back pedalling.

Secretly, Hillier was very pleased with himself. If she made the Inspector's board, she'd still be far enough under him to be kept under control easily. Plus he could still pair her with Lynley in either case. Those two were a perfect match for each other. He'd look to everyone like a very generous superior, and with Lynley back, he wouldn't have to deal with all the staff as well.

Satisfied, Hillier called his wife:

"Dear, for the press conference, should I wear the uniform or a suit?" Tricky question. The dress uniform conveyed formality and control; a suit would signal informality and care.

"Sweetheart, wear the uniform, but get a little detail wrong? Like a bit of messy hair and the top button open? That way you'll look official with a heart!"

His wife was his best advisor. A female police officer getting stabbed was still big news, and he could use the occasion to make a brilliant impression as the copper's cop boss……. The press conference would be another huge success and then he could spend the afternoon getting Havers' and Lynley's papers ready.


	8. Chapter 8

Barbara woke up, feeling thirsty. She pulled down the bed sheets (she wished those hospital beds weren't so uncomfortable) and went looking for the bathroom. She smiled at Lynley sleeping in his chair, and pulled up the cover around him. He looked thin and tired, she noticed...

Lynley woke up, to see Barbara arranging the covers around him. He smiled at her. Leave it to Barbara to fuss over him after nearly getting herself killed.

"Hey..." he said quietly. She looked startled at first, and a bit embarrassed at getting caught fussing over him, but then she smiled at him:

"Hey yourself, Sir. You looked cold, see?"

He nodded at her.

"You gave us all a terrible scare, Barbara. I drove up as fast as I could..."

Suddenly tiredness and stress washed over him, and he felt his eyes tear up. Barbara was probably the only person on the planet except his mother who'd seen him cry since he was about ten years old, and he felt like he couldn't bear it anymore. Barbara, still a bit woozy from the drugs they'd given her, threw all her inhibitions overboard and hugged him. Lynley self-control kicked in, and he wouldn't allow himself to cry anymore, but he leaned against her, until she heard his breathing return to normal.

He wiped his eyes with his hand and said:  
"Your getting cold, Sergeant. Get into bed immediately."

Barbara obeyed. No need to argue with him. She knew he'd needed to distance himself from her a bit, hence the "Sergeant", but she felt better about things than she had in ages.

Lynley tucked her covers up to her ears and said:

"I've decided to come back to work, as soon as I've been cleared I'll request for you to be my Sergeant again. I've spoken to Hillier. He praised you're quick thinking and sends his regards."

Barbara's eyebrow bent upwards in a very rebellious manner, and he held up his index finger as a warning. She thought it best to keep quiet.

"He also told me that you've been taking an Arabic course on his insistence, and that you basically cracked the case."

Barbara rolled her eyes at him:

"Well, I WANTED a Spanish course, that's what, and he messed up the papers and stuck me in the Arabic course to cover up, that's what!"

Lynley laughed at her softly. Her usual spunk was returning. That was a good sign.

"Let's both sleep an hour or two, shall we? You'll be released tomorrow, with any luck, and Azhar will come and drive you home. I'll go check on things at my house, and get a change of clothes, and then I'll be around to baby-sit you until Azhar comes back from work, and then we'll..."

He noticed she'd fallen asleep. Better that way, he thought, and sat down in the uncomfortable chair again. Tired as he was, he actually fell asleep again.

Both woke up at 06.00 am when the nurse came to check Barbara's temperature, and seeing as Barbara had no fever, she was released as soon as the doctor had made his rounds.

Barbara was slowly getting her shoes on, when she heard a cheerful voice:

"Barbara, Baba, where are you! Dad and I have come to take you home! "

Barbara smiled. Just what she needed, a cheerful kiddo!

"In here, kiddo!"

Hadiyyah rushed in and gave her a big hug:

"I'm glad you're well again! Daddy told me you got stung by a bee and had an allergic reaction! How scary! I didn't know you could be allergic to bees! Daddy says..."

Azhar had reached them by now:

"Hadi, don't squash Barbara right away. You need to keep something to hug for later!"

He twinkled at Barbara. He was very relieved his friend was all right.

They all laughed.

Azhar turned to Lynley:

"I decided to take today off from work. Please come and have lunch with us? Hadi and I are cooking curry, but I promise we won't make it too hot."

Lynley nodded. Yes. A bit off curry in good company, that what was he needed. He'd get started on the paperwork as soon as possible to get back to work. And he must remember to thank Barbara for all the work she'd invested in getting his house ready for the sale. He'd gotten a smaller apartment cleaned and furbished by Judith, and was slowly getting ready to get back to life again.

The unlikely group of friends slowly made their way down the elevator and out to the parking lot.

It was a beautiful day, everyone felt relieved that Barbara was all right, and no one noticed the dark figure lurking behind the trees, observing them all...


	9. Chapter 9

Barbara had been ordered at least a weeks rest by her GP, and spent some days helping Lynley packing some more things, and organizing storage for some items that would not fit into the new apartment. In the afternoons she picked up Hadiyyah at school, and practiced some more Arabic speaking with Azhar and Hadi.

All in all, she realised that she needed the rest, but after a week she was ready to get back to work. Meanwhile, Lynley had started the assessment and was getting all the paperwork ready to return to work, and counted on being back within the end of the month.

On the last day of her sick leave, Barbara decided to do all the shopping she'd need for the next couple of days, and got into her Mini early in the morning to be at the supermarket as soon as they opened. She hated shopping with lots of people around, and she counted on being back early enough to find a parking space nearby.

After finishing her shopping she put all her bags into the Mini's trunk and started getting into the car.

Suddenly a man appeared in front of her, grabbing hold of her car door with one hand, and her arm with the other.

"Now what?" she thought. She made a quick assessment of the situation, the man was in his early fifties, probably from Asian descent, and unarmed, but much taller than herself and very fit.

She tried a weak smile to appease him:

"May I help you? Are you lost, Sir?" She should be so lucky...

"My son. You've arrested my son. You've made a mistake; you've forced him to confess unspeakable things! He's innocent!" The man was shouting by now.

Barbara suddenly saw the resemblance. Of course... Trying to take control of the situation, she put her hand on his arm, and said firmly:

"Sir, you need to let go of me. I'm a police officer, don't get yourself into trouble. If you wish, I'll organise a meeting with your son in prison. I assure you, we've not coerced him into confessing anything he didn't do. I want you to calm down now, take some deep breaths, and step away from my car!"

Barbara used her best imitation of Lynley's "We are not amused" voice.

Stunningly, it worked. The man seemed to deflate infront of her eyes. He let go of her arm, and just stood in front of her, shaking.

Barbara noticed some commotion in the corner of her eyes, and turned to see the supermarket's security officer approaching.

"Ma'am, is everything all right?" Another customer had probably alerted security.

She nodded at him.

"Please take Mr Dara here into your office and offer him a cup of tea, would you?" She showed him her badge.

"I'll call a colleague of mine to come and take his statement. Stay with him at all times, do not let him out of your sight, not even to go to the loo." Just in case. The man seemed to be pretty out of it, she didn't want to let him go and then fish him out of the Thames or worse...

The security guard accompanied Mr Dara to his office, and Barbara called Lynley to tell him what had happened. Shock was setting in, and she suddenly started crying on the phone:

"Can you come and get me, Sir? I really don't feel like driving right now. And please call Azhar to accompany Mr Dara, would you? He needs some support and someone to gently explain what happened to his daugher-in.-law and son."

"Just wait for me there, Barbara. I'll be right there! Just sit down in your car, and wait. I'll alert Bolton and call Azhar. Don't you worry about anything, now!"

Barbara did just that. She sat down in her car, and tried to calm down. It had been a bit too much excitement the last week or so. She started to long for some boring paperwork or some really stupid case to solve...

Lynley, Azhar and Bolton all arrived almost simultaneously. The first thing all three did was rush over to Barbara, who had managed to calm herself at least to the point of not crying in front of them.

No one was fooled, though. They all saw her tear streaked face, and Lynley resolutely shooed Azhar and Bolton off to the guard's office.

"Azhar, I'll take Barbara home. I'll cook a second breakfast, and then put her to bed. Please come see me as soon as you're done!"

Azhar nodded. Barbara was a very brave woman, but she'd been through two traumatic instances in less than 10 days, and looked exhausted. He'd make sure to cook extra portions for her, so she didn't have to cook... Rushing off after Bolton, Azhar was already plotting some delicious menus...

Meanwhile, Lynley got behind the wheel of Barbara's Mini, and carefully coaxed it out of the parking lot. Bolton would take her statement later, they had agreed.

When they finally reached Barbara's minibungalow, she was really pale and trembling.

"Barbara, should I call a doctor or take you to the hospital? You look unwell." Lynley stroked her arm, trying to reassure her.

She just shook her head, and started to climb out of the car, practically running for her house. Lynley left the Mini where it was, if she got a ticket, he'd pay for it, and rushed after her.

She opened the door, and went straight for the bath room. He could hear her throwing up violently, and wondered if he should go and help her. He decided against it, putting the kettle on instead. He heard Barbara getting into the shower, and grabbed her morning gown from the bed, and discreetly threw it into the bathroom.


	10. Chapter 10

He prepared the tea, and by the time Barbara had finished the shower and dried her hair, he had a snack ready as well.

She drank the tea; holding on to the cup with both hands, but just had a small bite of the sandwich he'd prepared.

"I was so scared" she suddenly said. "Last week, and today as well. " I thought, if I die now, what had my life been? Just work and a mother who doesn't remember me half of the time!" Tears started welling up.

"That is NOT true Barbara! You have me, and Azhar, and Hadiyyah, and at work many people would miss you dearly! You've been a good daughter, taking care of your father and now your mother, and you were like a mother to you brother."

Lynley put his arms around her, and let her cry as much as she wanted. When the tears subsided, he helped her into bed, taking her morning gown off, leaving her with a tank top and knickers. She was too tired to get shy and just snuggled into the covers.

"Don't go, ok? "She mumbled before literally passing out on him.

An hour later, Lynley heard a soft knock on the door, and opened it to see Azhar standing there.

Lynley nodded him into the apartment, putting the kettle on again.

"Barbara was sick when we got here, and then she took a shower. She just had some tea before getting into bed. I had made some sandwiches, but she wouldn't eat."

"Don't worry, "Azhar answered, "I'll bring lunch over, or better, I'll prepare lunch and call you when it's ready. I've got left overs from yesterday. All I need later is 10 minutes to get Hadi from school later. Bolton wishes to see her, but I told him I'd check how she was before making an appointment."

Both men silently assessed each other over the cup of tea. Azhar spoke first:

"I was very sorry to hear about your wife and child. Please accept my deepest condolences." His serious dark eyes observed Lynley, who answered:

"Thank you. I'm still trying to come to terms with things. I've decided to go back to work full time, and I've requested for Barbara to be assigned to me again."

"She'll be pleased. She missed you and your working relationship, as well as your friendship."

The men finished their tea in silence, and then Lynley washed the dishes while Azhar went to his apparent to prepare lunch. By now, it was 12.00, and they started to feel hungry. Azhar rang Lynley on his mobile five minutes before lunch was ready, and Lynley carefully woke Barbara up. He hugged her, pillow and bed sheets and all, and said softly:

"Wake up Barbara, lunch is ready. Azhar has cooked for us. You just need to eat a little bit, and then we'll see if you're strong enough to talk to Bolton, all right? If you want, he can come here to take your statement." He held her until she was completely awake and nodded at him.

"Herm, Sir? Could you wait in the kitchen? I'm not wearing very much am I?" Barbara sounded tired still, but was smiling at him. He smiled back at her, and left the room. She was definitely feeling better, and some food would help as well.

Lynley and Barbara made it to Azhar's place in less than 10 minutes, and found a feast: Azhar had put out everything he had at home: some lamb curry and rice, and bread, and some salad. Barbara felt better just by smelling the delicious food, and suddenly realised she was drop dead hungry. As she finished the second plate of curry, she said:

"Sir, I think I can stomach talking to Bolton now. But if he could come and see me that would be really great..."

Azhar nodded:

"Actaully, Mr Dara broke down the minute we started talking to him. Apparently he was the one to insist on the wedding.

Benham had been betrothed to his cousin since she was 8 years old, to repay Mr Dara's brother for paying for Dari and his wife's move to England years ago. Mrs Dara had tried to stop it, saying it would be better to just pay for the young woman's university education here and find her a husband while she was here, but it's very difficult to get out of these arrangements once they're made.

Mrs Dara felt she could not tell her husband their son was probably gay, and after the wedding, at first things seemed to go well. But soon, the first troubles surfaced, and the young couple started fighting. The fights got worse and worse. Mr Dara the elder tried to talk to the two of them, but to no avail. He felt completely powerless after his son's arrest, and was still refusing to accept reality.

I believe getting arrested this morning was the wake up call he needed. His wife's down at the station now, trying to sort out things with a lawyer. Her son won't be free on bail, but her husband will be released, and they'll try to make their son's prison stay as bearable as possible. The young man is seen by a psychologist, by the way. He's still deemed suicidal. The Imam the Met works with is seeing him as well."

Azhar stopped. He shook his head. Importing ancient customs to England wasn't easy, and so many of the arranged weddings ended in horrified parents accepting divorced daughters with children in tow back home. He thought of his own older children, with a bang of sorrow.

Lately he'd been thinking of them more and more. He'd always missed them dearly, but had not wanted to disrupt their new lives. Seeing how Hadi suffered after her mother had left them, had made him think again. It had probably not been better for his children not to see him. He decided there and then to contact the Imam at the mosque they frequented to initiate contact. He hadn't seen them in a long time, and it wouldn't be easy, but he was determined not to be an "Angela" anymore. He'd made so many mistakes in his life, he wanted to make some of them right, or at least try.

Lynley got off the phone with the Met.

"Bolton will be here in an hour or so. I've talked to Hillier as well. You're off for another week, and by the time you're ready to get back to work, I'll start a trial period of two weeks with the psychologist's supervision, to see how things work out. You'll be assigned to me again."

Barbara started grinning. Lynley had sounded just like his old bossy self. Things weren't going so badly today, after all. All she had to do was talk to Bolton, and right now she felt secure and confident. Besides, Lynley and Azhar would be at hand, if she needed them, and soon Hadi would be home from school to brighten her day.

On top of it, she was getting Lynley back.

She felt ready to face the world, and all that it would bring, again.

FINIS ( for now )


End file.
